T Minus Christmas
by TB's LMC
Summary: This was written for the 2013 Tracy Island Writers Forum's Inaugural Christmas challenge. It contains a cuss word, so I'm putting it in the "M" section to avoid people skewering me for thinking teenagers cuss. Jeff encounters something on a rescue that changes a long-held belief about Christmas. Warning: written in a moment of complete goofy-ness.


_This was written for the 2013 Tracy Island Writers Forum's Inaugural Christmas challenge. Nobody beta'd it, so if it stinks, then it's all my fault! Also, beware…this was written in a moment of complete goofy-ness._

**T MINUS CHRISTMAS**

It was the night before Christmas but it was the last thing he cared about right now. Because if this didn't go well, there would _be_ no Christmas ever, ever again.

Jeff couldn't believe what was happening. But he had no _choice_, because it _was_ happening. He'd seen it...or rather, _him_...with his own eyes.

It had all started at 8:03pm Greenwich Mean Time on December the twenty-fourth, two thousand and thirty-two.

_T minus three hours and fifty-seven minutes..._

He knew where each and every one of his boys were the moment Thunderbird Five alerted them to the rescue. Not because he kept tabs on them, but because of Scott saying, when they'd passed each other in the hallway only an hour earlier, "Hey, Dad, Virg and I are going to work on those new Doppler designs with Brains now." Not half an hour later, he'd watched as Tin-Tin and Alan had gone to the second floor of the villa, where Alan's bedroom suite was located. It didn't take a genius to figure out where _they_ were headed. He'd wondered briefly in that moment whether they really and truly thought they were putting one over on all the other members of the household.

Only half an hour before the alert, he'd heard Gordon splash into the pool, and John, of course, was the same place you could find him every night at around that time, assuming he was on Tracy Island: his observatory atop the island's highest peak.

And so it was, with his mother seated on the living room couch reading a book, and Jeff finishing up some Tracy Aerospace paperwork at his desk, that the klaxon went off. Kyrano appeared in their midst out of thin air, as he often did...Jeff had learned to stop asking how...and the rest of the island's complement had all arrived within six minutes. Except John. It took exactly nine minutes and thirty-five seconds for him to make it from the mountaintop.

A record-breaker, Jeff thought as he brought up Five's remote monitoring system.

"What's she got for us?" Scott asked. Every line of his body seemed angled toward the wall that existed solely to turntable him to his beloved Thunderbird One with her sleek silver body and pointed red nose. Jeff stifled a smile. Always so eager, so ready for action, was his firstborn son.

Leaning one hip casually against the back of the couch, Virgil couldn't have been more the opposite of his brother if he tried.

Jeff eyed the computer and raised an eyebrow.

"What is it, Dad?" Alan asked.

"Hold on a second," Jeff replied, because Five's computer could not be telling him...that. He pressed a rapid succession of keys on the computer, instructing Five to play back the audio of the call it had received, the call it had determined required the attention of International Rescue.

The recording crackled to life.

"_...has split open, it's swallowed everything! We're trapped by the chasm that's surrounded us, please, we have no transportation, you must help us! International Rescue, please! Help!"_

The voice sounded vaguely like a grown man who'd sucked on a few helium balloons before making the call.

Scott frowned. "Well, where is the call from, Father? I've seen no reports on a chasm opening up anywhere."

Jeff blinked. He looked at the map Five was providing, then looked up at Scott. "The North Pole," he finally replied.

John frowned at the same time Scott did. Virgil's and Gordon's furrowed brows soon followed. Alan's took a little longer to inch into existence, while Tin-Tin's eyebrows reached her bangs at the same time Grandma's reached her hairline.

Only the faces of Brains and Kyrano remained placid.

"The North Pole," Scott repeated.

"Seriously?" John asked.

"Cool," Gordon commented.

"Well, that's a first," said Virgil.

"And there are people there," Alan noted.

"Apparently," replied Tin-Tin.

Jeff used Thunderbird Five's powerful satellite network to zoom in on the exact coordinates of the originating cry for help: 90.0000° N, 0.0000° W. "All right, Scott, off you go."

Scott looked askance at Virgil, whose look said something along the lines of, "You got me," then nodded curtly in his father's direction and replied, "F.A.B., Dad."

"Pod 5?" Virgil asked.

Jeff nodded, still studying the satellite imagery. "Pod 5," he confirmed.

Scott's wall swiveled him around to Thunderbird One's gantry.

Virgil's painting upended him into Thunderbird Two's chute.

Jeff glanced up. "Well, what are the rest of you standing there for? John? Alan? Gordon? Go!"

"Yes, sir!" the three responded in unison, leaving Tin-Tin to stare after them as they raced out of the living room and into the hall, where Thunderbird Two's elevator would ferry them to her cockpit.

Brains looked up at John's portrait, where Jeff had sent the data from Five, then turned his attention to Alan's portrait, where Jeff had sent Five's satellite imagery. He blinked, pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, and approached Alan's portrait.

"Is that, ah, what I, ah...think it is, Mr. Tracy?" he asked, arm extending, finger pointing at a dark brown blob at the center of the image.

"I have no idea what that is," Jeff replied as he approached the same portrait. "But there's clearly a circle around it, which would lend credence to the caller's claim of a chasm."

"A circular chasm?" Tin-Tin asked, voice dripping in disbelief. "Around the exact geographical top of the planet?" She moved in to stand between the two men, whose eyes were still fixed on the image. "Why, that appears to be a building!" she exclaimed, moving close enough to actually touch one particular side of the dark brown blob. "But there are no permanent settlements at the North Pole!"

"None that we are aware of," Kyrano corrected softly.

Brains, Jeff and Tin-Tin turned to look at him while Grandma rose to her feet, book discarded on the couch.

Jeff narrowed his eyes as he took in that nearing-on-smug look Kyrano was giving them. "Don't you even try to tell me..." His voice trailed off, and a few moments of silence reigned until he tried again. "Listen, Kyrano, you've been trying to convince me for the better part of twenty-five years of the existence of the metaphysical. Don't you dare start trying to convince me that fairy tales are actually true."

"Well, you know, Jeff, they say _Cinderella_ was based on fact," Grandma reminded him.

Jeff looked sharply at her. "No way. There's got to be a rational explanation for this."

"_Thunderbird One requesting clearance for takeoff," _came Scott's voice from the speaker behind Jeff's desk.

Jeff huffed and harrumphed himself back to his desk where he checked local radar. "All clear, Scott. I'll be feeding you more information after I try to initiate contact with the caller."

"_F.A.B."_

The pool outside the villa and some distance away opened silently enough, but there was no mistaking the roar of Thunderbird One coming to life. They watched as she sailed into the heavens, condensation spraying the villa and the heat from her afterburners pushing into the house through the open sliding glass door.

Jeff scowled as he studied the information before him. "Tin-Tin, bring up the holocomputer at the side desk, please. I want you monitoring the area in 3D with an eye to the size, depth and origin of that dark circular shape._"_

"Yes, Jeff," Tin-Tin acknowledged, moving to the secondary command center just around the corner from the Lounge in a room directly behind Jeff's desk.

"Brains, I want every scrap of information you can pull in about recent expeditions to the North Pole. I want to know if there _are_ any, first of all. I also want seismic and atmospheric readings in thirty seconds bursts send to my data pad, starting yesterday."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Tracy, I'll, ah, be in the, ah, Roundhouse, then."

Jeff nodded and looked up to find his mother was nowhere in sight. Not unusual. Undoubtedly she was already in the throes of planning a huge meal for the boys' return. She loved to stuff them right after a debrief, and in truth it was a necessity. All that pumping adrenalin and heavy lifting that usually went hand-in-hand with rescues, tended to morph his sons from young men with manners to five ravenous beasts.

Jeff tried repeatedly to connect with the caller who'd left the cry for help, but no matter what frequency he attempted, he couldn't raise them.

Turning his attention back to the computer monitor in front of him, the frown that had taken up permanent residence on his brow actually deepened. The North Pole. On Christmas Eve. He well remembered the children's Christmas specials on television from his youth, and his sons' younger years. He knew damn well what an elf's voice sounded like.

It sounded just like that call for help that Five had sent their way.

But that was ludicrous. In fact, it bordered on insanity that he'd even had the thought, as far as he was concerned. But really, there was nothing that could be done until Scott reached the Danger Zone. Until Scott reached the very tip-top of Earth. Until Scott reported back the reality of what was there, rather than all of them dreaming up the silly possibilities he knew had been on all their minds since the moment they'd found out the coordinates. Guessing didn't get anyone anywhere.

The radio behind him came to life. _"Mr. Tracy, this is Tin-Tin. Utilizing the data from Thunderbird Five, I've developed a 3D holographic image of the chasm that Five's satellite photo showed us."_

Jeff watched as Tin-Tin fed the image through to a small holo-computer to Jeff's right. "Can we get a fix on causation?" he asked. "I don't want the boys running into ground instability while trying to effect a rescue."

"_Based on the the size and location of the rift," _she explained, _"it would appear that there isn't any more seismic activity now than there has been in the course of our planet's history. Simply put, the circular anomaly at the North Pole appears to be an isolated non-seismic event."_

"Non-seismic?" Jeff repeated. "How can it be non-seismic when it's in the ground?"

"There are other things capable of causing such destruction," Kyrano offered. Jeff jumped because goddammit, the man had snuck up on him again. "If the most logical explanation isn't true, you must go with what's left."

"What, the most _il_logical explanation? What are you getting at?"

Kyrano moved so that he was standing to Jeff's right. He eyed the 3D image that outlined the upside-down triangle shape of a piece of the earth that had apparently broken off several layers down into the planet. He eyed the dark brown shapes that nearly filled the circular top of the broken-off piece of planet. It was clear from Tin-Tin's 3D image that the wedge wasn't even attached to Earth anymore, but instead, looked to be doing nothing less than floating.

"Explain _that_ with logic," Kyrano said as he pointed to the obvious space between the wedge and the planet.

Jeff growled. "The model's incomplete, that's all."

The sound of annoyance that came through the speakers let Jeff know precisely what Tin-Tin thought of him maligning the model she'd created.

"_Ah, Brains to Mr. Tracy."_

"Finally, someone who operates purely on logic." Jeff flipped a switch on his desk. "Go ahead, Brains."

"_Mr. Tracy, there are, ah, no seismic or atmospheric readings from the North Pole until, ah three minutes prior to the call that Thunderbird Five received."_

Jeff's face drained of all color.

"_I can, ah-assure you that until 8:02pm and, ah, thirty-two seconds, the North Pole has seen no action save for the whipping of the red ribbon on the red and white pole planted there by the, ah, first polar expedition."_

Jeff looked up to find Kyrano gazing at him with one eyebrow arched. Tin-Tin marched into the Lounge, the scowl on her face yelling her displeasure at Jeff's propensity for believing weird things to be operator fault rather than actual fact.

"Brains, are you trying to tell me there's no settlement, no encampment, no expedition currently scheduled to be at the North Pole? Nothing at all in terms of equipment being gathered and stored, outbuildings being built?"

"_Nothing, Mr. Tracy. The North Pole is always, ah, off-limits at this time of year specifically to, ah, ward off someone pulling a rather large Christmas-related prank."_

"Well obviously they didn't ward it off this year. It's got to be a prank," Jeff concluded, firm in his belief that that was exactly what they were up against. "We'll know soon enough," he continued, just as the eyes on Scott's portrait began to flash in time with the incoming call beep. "Go ahead, son."

"_Father,"_ Scott said, eyes firmly trained out the viewing window on his right. _"I have arrived at Danger Zone."_

"Report."

An uncharacteristic hesitation on Scott's part caused all pairs of eyes in the Lounge to focus on him. _"Well, uh, Father, I...I don't know how to tell you this exactly."_

"Tell me _what_?" Jeff barked, because this was completely unlike his eldest.

"_However it is that chasm came into being, I can clearly see what's in the center of it."_

Jeff ground his teeth together. "Which is?"

"_Here, I'll relay One's camera feed to you."_

Scott's live countenance flipped to a live camera shot. Jeff rose slowly to his feet as his eyes took it all in. Tin-Tin gasped. Kyrano...Jeff didn't even know where he was all of a sudden. Again.

"Oh, my," Brains breathed as he rejoined them in the Lounge.

"_As you can see, Father, we're, uh...we're looking at...Santa's Workshop."_

"Santa's...Scott, there is no such thing. It's a prank, we've established that."

"Well, ah, not really, ah, Mr. Tracy," Brains interrupted.

Jeff shot him a look. Brains' mouth clamped shut.

"_Father, if this is a prank, it's a mighty good one."_

The camera zoomed in. There, big as life and without any possibility of explaining away what they were seeing, were at least two dozen small men dressed in green suits with little pointed shoes and hats topped by golden bells. And in their midst, right at the center of the throng who were attempting to stay as far away from the circular chasm as possible, was a hefty older man with a white beard, black boots and a red and white hat.

And surrounding all that, were nine...reindeer.

And one of the reindeer had a bright red shiny...Jeff slammed his hand down on the desk. "It's a prank!" he insisted. "Those people went up there to get themselves some airtime on NTBS and got into trouble, as they should for pulling a stunt like that."

Brains looked at Jeff and blinked. Grandma entered the room, stopped near Jeff's desk and stared at her son.

"_Father, this is no prank,"_ Scott countered. _"But either way it doesn't matter. We've got to airlift these men out of here before that chasm does any more damage."_

"And the reindeer," Grandma reminded her grandson.

"_Well, yeah, Grandma, of course. Dad, I'm going to fill Virgil in. We'll come up with a plan of action and be back with you in five minutes."_

"Fine," Jeff replied as Scott's portrait changed back to the oil painting of himself in uniform. Jeff realized everyone in the room was staring at him. "What?"

Brains looked away. Tin-Tin bit her lip.

"If I may," Kyrano offered and yep, he'd appeared out of nowhere again. Jeff kept himself from responding, so as not to appear ungrateful for the input he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like. "Is it not irrelevant, as Scott suggested, whether or not that truly is Santa and his elves?"

"That's true, Jeff," Grandma piped up. "Fact is, they're people in need of our help no matter who they are."

"Right you are," Jeff said, grateful for once that everyone's opinions seemed to be aligning with his own. "Now Brains, I want a scientific, logical explanation for that rift, and if the boys can expect any further movement on—"

Jeff was cut off by Scott's portrait alert. He switched the feed on. "Go ahead, Scott."

"_Father, we can effect a rescue relatively easily with the large bus cage in Pod 5,"_ Scott reported. _"But John's finally gotten hold of the, uh...man...who called for our help to begin with, and there's another problem."_

"Which is?"

"_Even if we get them out of there by midnight Zulu, they're still going to need our help."_

"In what way?" Jeff asked, genuinely curious.

"_They, um..."_ Scott looked away from the camera. _"Their transportation's gone, it fell down the chasm. They were able to save the sack of gifts, but there's no way for them to get to where they need to go."_

"Sack of gifts?" Jeff repeated, frowning. "Where do they need to go? Two can drop them wherever necessary."

"_Um...around the world, Father. In one night."_

"Around the—what?"

"Well, I'll be," Grandma breathed.

"_Yeah, Father, it's, uh...well, you see, sir, he's...we're rescuing...Dad, it's Santa."_

_T minus one hour and forty-eight minutes..._

Jeff scowled as he listened to the goings-on. Virgil directing Gordon and the bus cage, Gordon herding people..._little_ people, maybe, but PEOPLE nonetheless, Jeff's mind insisted...into it. The brothers coordinating Virgil winching the bus cage back up to the pod. Alan working with John on the little island right smack dab at the North Pole which hadn't moved, hadn't become larger or smaller, hadn't broken apart, away or otherwise changed one iota since the initial data had come in.

And no, Jeff absolutely had _not_ heard the "Ho! Ho! Ho!" through John's wrist communicator. Well, he _had_ heard it, but of course it'd been the Santa Claus imposter. Jeff remembered quite well the number of fake Santas he'd taken his boys to the mall to see every year, and some of their ho-ho-hos had been much better than this guy's.

Jeff actively resisted the impulse to ask Alan to yank the guy's beard for proof.

"_Base from Mobile Control."_

"Go ahead, Scott."

"_Father we've rescued all who were trapped on the broken-out patch of earth, but there's still that other thing they need a little help with."_

Jeff cocked his head. It had been a long time since he'd seen Scott look so...unsure of himself.

"_These folks have a job to do tonight, but their sleigh fell into the chasm. They also lost a couple of reindeer."_

"Sleigh?" Jeff blinked. Jesus Christ, Kyrano just appeared next to him like he'd done nothing less than winked into existence. Jeff tried to calm his rapidly beating heart and looked up at his friend standing placidly next to the desk. "Reindeer?"

Kyrano just shrugged one shoulder and looked to Scott's portrait. "How much time is left before Zero Hour?" he asked.

Jeff's eyes widened. Zero Hour? What the actual f—?

"_Only thirty-two minutes, Kyrano."_ Scott looked from his father's friend to his father. _"Dad, we have to help him or there won't be any Christmas this year."_

_T Minus Thirty Minutes..._

"Jeff?" Kyrano said.

"Jeff?" Grandma said.

"Ah, Mr. Tracy, you, ah, might want to, ah, consider the consequences," Brains added.

"Consequences?" Jeff nearly bellowed. "What are you saying here, that you think International Rescue saved Santa Claus and his elves? That you really _believe_ that?"

"_And Mrs. Claus too, Dad."_

Jeff's head whipped around, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't funny, son."

"_I'm not trying to be funny! Here, wait...you talk to him yourself."_

"Talk to _who_?"

But Jeff didn't get an answer, and when Scott moved away from the camera and another visage filled it, he guessed he didn't really need one.

Rotund. Rosy-cheeked. White hair and beard. Red hat and suit lined with white fur. Black belt.

Jeff thumped back down in his chair. A man in a Santa Claus suit shouldn't be making him feel so...so...what was it...?

"_Ho! Ho! Ho! Jefferson Tracy! Merry Christmas! And thank you for saving the lives of the citizens of the North Pole!"_

Ho ho ho. Jeff blinked. "Citizens?"

"_Why, of course! You see, normally we're invisible to the outside world. Can you imagine how the people of Earth would react if they could see us all the time?"_ Santa shivered like this was a monumentally unpleasant thought. _"But the magic broke down at last, after all these thousands of years, and unfortunately created a crack in the Earth's crust that we didn't anticipate. We're sorely mourning the loss of my sleigh, but thankfully your son Gordon saved the presents!"_

Invisible.

Magic.

Presents.

Jeff blinked again.

"_I know you stopped believing in me when you were only four years old,"_ Santa said so quietly it was nearly a whisper. _"But I've never stopped believing in you, Jeff, and so I'm going to ask you for a favor."_

"Um...okay," Jeff replied, eyes still wide and fixed on Santa's face.

"_I'd like to know if we can use your Thunderbird One, with Scott at the controls of course, to do what we must do tonight."_

"Use Thunderbird One," Jeff repeated, unable to get a coherent thought to form.

"_Yes, and with Scott piloting and a little old-fashioned Christmas magic, I think International Rescue can add saving Christmas to its list of accomplishments!"_ Santa leaned forward conspiratorially. _"It'll be our little secret. What do you say?"_

Scott delivering presents in Thunderbird One with Santa Claus.

It was madness.

"Sure," Jeff replied.

"_Ho! Ho! Ho! I knew you'd help! Thank you, Jeff, and thank you to all of you who do what you do day in and day out! Now I really must be running...Christmas waits for no one, not even Santa!"_

Soon the jolly man had been replaced by Jeff's eldest. Jeff suddenly felt like he was coming out of a fog, like he was just now returning to his senses. He barked, "What the hell did I just do?"

Scott grinned. _"Why, you've saved Christmas, Father. I have to run!"_ And, like a little boy who'd just gotten everything he'd ask for, he honest-to-God _giggled_ before cutting the feed.

Jeff leaned back in his chair. "What the hell?" he asked.

"You did the right thing, Jeff," his mother said. "Now I'd better get some cookies baked so Santa and Scott have something to eat when they get to us."

"I've lost my mind," Jeff said, watching his mother retreat from the room.

"No," Kyrano countered, and Jeff's eyes moved to him. "You've expanded it." Then he smiled at Jeff, turned and followed Grandma out of the room.

"Brains, surely you don't buy this insanity. You, of all people!"

"Well, ah, Mr. Tracy, there's, ah, nothing to suggest that with the help of some Christmas magic, ah, Santa Claus _isn't_ real."

Jeff facepalmed, then jumped a mile out of his chair when a radio transmission crackled to life behind him. _"Thunderbird One, the red-nosed rocket to Base...T Minus Christmas, Father! I'll see you when we're done!"_

Without another word, the transmission faded away, a faint _"Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"_ trailing off with it.

It was the night before Christmas but it was the last thing he cared about right now. Because if this didn't go well, there would _be_ no Christmas ever, ever again. Jeff didn't know why or how he believed this...but suddenly his heart swelled and he _did_ believe it.

"_Thunderbird Two to Base, we're returning to Tracy Island with the elves, the reindeer and Mrs. Claus. Make sure Grandma has a few dozen cookies ready to go, these guys are hungry!"_

The elves?

Mrs. Claus?

Jeff jumped to his feet and tore off for the kitchen to help his mother with the cookies. After all, he would not have it be said by Mrs. Claus or anyone else that Tracy Island didn't know how to treat its guests.

Even if he still couldn't quite grasp the fact that International Rescue not only saved lives...but apparently also did things like save Christmas.

He could only hope that nothing happened to Cupid or the Easter Bunny next year...


End file.
